if you touch me again i will
by Clar the Pirate
Summary: Mm, the title doesn't have capitals. A little portrait of one of those oh so noble and selfless youngest children who seem to populate fairy tales.


_if you touch me again i will_

She packed four dresses, eight pairs of stockings, her only pair of thick woolly socks, two pairs of shoes, three shawls, her father's mackintosh, a hat, her favourite necklace, and a toothbrush. She packed all of her underwear because she didn't know how or where or when she was going to be able to wash things and staving off the inevitable had never sounded like such a good plan as it did now.

She looked up and saw one of her sisters leaning against the door frame, outlined by empty space. Her sister came forward and ran gentle fingers down her cheek. "O Beauty, if only you hadn't wanted that rose. You are too good."

"Not really, I'm just doing what needs to be done. Anyone would."

"Not anyone; just you. It's why we love you. I cannot imagine making such a sacrifice – I may wish it otherwise, it's no credit to me to admit it, but I couldn't do it. I'm not noble enough. We are so fortunate to have such a selfless sister."

"I don't – I'm not..."

_(take your eyes out with my thumbs_

"Do you have no second thoughts at all?"

She looked at her hands. "Of course not. It's the only way to save our father."

_carve up your left leg, starting with your toes, joint by joint_

One of her brothers arrived then, strolled in to ruffle her hair with a large calloused palm. He slung an arm around her shoulder, picked up her case with the other.

"Hell of a thing to happen because you wanted a rose," he said as he led her down the stairs.

"How could you have known, right? I wish Dad hadn't given his word to return; we would be out there in a second. We could have taken it. I mean, think about it, it preys on defenceless old men, right? It'll be scary but you can't let it see that it frightens you. That's the way to deal with wild animals – don't let them see you scared. Just tell it that you could have all your brothers there in two snaps of your fingers if tries to hurt you. You tell it that we are just _waiting_ for the chance, and I will personally tear its flesh into a hundred little pieces if it dares hurt a hair on your head. You know we'll be right here when you need us, waiting for you to call."

_remove any indication that you were ever male with a spoon_

"Hey, chin up, Beauty; show it the family pride. We don't bow and cower for anyone, right?"

She nodded.

_slice off your fingers one at a time while you watch_

When she reached the front door, the carriage that would take her to the Beast was already waiting. It was tall, with large wheels and – she noticed with that same part of her mind that told her to pack all her underwear, that tried to bury terror and guilt and rage under a multiplicity of small inconsequential details – very good suspension. It wasn't a poor man's coach. Two more of her sisters already had their heads poked in the door to nose about its interior.

"All that velvet; it must be stifling in summer."

"What's in the basket? Smells delicious."

"Is that a rose? Do you think it was trying to be funny?"

"Poor Beauty. If she'd wanted something simple like the rest of us, but no, it had to be a rose."

And there was her father, standing on the front path. He looked so small and sick and pale in the clear morning sunlight, she remembered him being much bigger. He came towards her and she realised, no, he was still the same height he had always been.

"I'm sorry, Beauty, I'm so sorry. I should not let you do this, I shouldn't let you. I should have stood up to the Beast when I had a chance. I shouldn't let you go," he said as he led her to the carriage.

_force-feed you your own liver and significant portions of your intestines)_

"Are you sure you're willing to do this, Beauty, really? You have to be willing."

"Have I said a word otherwise?"

He sighed. "Then come give your father a hug."

_stiffen and think about how much i hate you _

* * *

_In one of the original versions (which you can find on Sur La Lune), Beauty had seven brothers and seven sisters. And the brothers were all ready to go after the Beast and kill it but the father had made a promise and in fairytale land a man's word matters more than his daughter. __It's a terrible habit of mine to find something I really like and try to figure out how I could fit it into a fairy tale. In this case it was a piece of writing on the internet that I have never been able to find again so I have no idea who wrote it and no idea to whom to attribute the parts above in italics, sorry. Here's the__ poem uninterrupted:_

if you touch me again i will

(take your eyes out with my thumbs

carve up your left leg, starting with your toes, joint by joint

remove any indication that you were ever male with a spoon

slice off your fingers one at a time while you watch

force-feed you your own liver and significant portions of your intestines)

stiffen and think about how much i hate you


End file.
